The Undeserving
by JaggedRest
Summary: He lost his true love to early. They were both so young. But now he suffers without her. But he knows he deserves this unhappiness. He was unable to protect her. He believes he doesn't truly deserve anything good. He drowns in the ocean that is his self-pity. Will anybody be able to bring him out of it? Will somebody make him believe he doesn't belong among the undeserving?


When it comes to writing, I can't seem to actually bring myself to do it. I'm not sure if this is just going to be a story or a journal but I guess we'll see right? I don't know about we, probably just me really. But who knows? I might change my mind and share it. But that's highly doubtful. I don't have many escapes from this world, except writing and my music.

You might wonder why I need an escape? Well you might find out later on through this little experience. Let's start with basics shall we? I'm 18 and a senior in high school. I'm what you call the popular guy in school. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't get to my head. I don't strive to be that guy or desire to be him. But things happen. Now that I have established my reluctant popular guy persona we may continue.

As far as hobbies go, I love to play the guitar and swim. But those are my only enjoyable hobbies. I'm forced into other activities like my Mandarin lessons, my mixed martial arts lessons, and my tutoring lessons by an overbearing father.

Boo-hoo right? Poor me. I know another language and I know how to defend myself? You think I just sound like a privileged brat prattling on about my first-world problems. You may be right. I probably should just suck it up and move on. But I'd like to vent for a bit. But I do appreciate all the activities to distract me. It keeps me from the root of my problems.

As of right now I am writing this at 4:27 a.m., on a school night. It's not a big deal really, because I rarely sleep. Between my nightmares of the girl that haunts my dreams and a certain girl that haunts my reality.

But I always do my best thinking at night, but sometimes the worst. I'm sure when I wake up, I'll be slightly embarrassed of what I have written. I wonder if I'm the only one?

As I mentioned of my father early, I think I should talk about him. He is an Entrepreneur of sorts. He'll buy businesses and turn them around, making plenty of money off of them and moving on to his next project. He is a good man though. Usually to busy to hang out with me. I understand of course, I'm busy with my own life as well.

Since I've talked about my father, I should talk about my mother. Yes, my parents are divorced but that doesn't stop them from being friendly. My mother lives in an apartment in the middle of New York City, while my father lives in upper Manhattan. My mother is the sweetest woman you'll ever meet. She wouldn't hurt a fly. I love her as much as a son could love his mother. But if you talk bad about her I will break your face. And I know plenty of ways to do it too.

Since my parents divorced at an early age, my father got a new wife a few years later. When I was about eight this new wife acted horrible towards me. Of course not in front of my father, but it's not that hard to hide things from someone who's never there. This woman used to abuse me any chance she had. On few occasions she even sexually abused me. But eventually I shared this with my friend and she made me tell my real mother.

I've never seen my mother look so furious. I cried for hours ashamed of myself. My mother kept reassuring me that she wasn't angry at me and none of this was my fault. My mother stormed over there with a few police officers and barged in. When they were taking my step-mother away, my mom walked straight up to her and introduced her right fist to the woman's face. Then she made a quick acquaintance to the floor before the officers we able to pick her up (the woman was unconscious). From that memory, I believe I received my fighting abilities from my mom.

My life doesn't sound that bad right? But just any other normal human being out there, I suffered my fair share of tragedies. When I was 16 I had a girlfriend who I was solely and completely, head over heals in love with. I know I was only 16 but why does that mean I couldn't find my true love early on? Anyway, she was a beautiful girl. I planned on spending the rest of my life with her. She was my first everything, girlfriend, kiss, and lover...(I don't support sex at 16 but yes it happens, please be safe).

I was the happiest guy in New York. But like most things, it came to a brutalizing end. I was driving us to her house to drop her off. I only had my license for a few weeks but I really wanted to drive us around. Who needs a license in New York right? Me of course, just because I had to have one. It was about midnight and we were running late. I knew we would be in trouble but not much trouble. They knew how we were around each other. Nearly inseparable.

I was driving my birthday present from my father, which was a black Mercedes-Benz 540 Special Roadster and man, did I love that car. I always appreciated the classics. Yes, it was an overkill of a gift. But hey, what is a recurrently gone father supposed to buy his son's love with? Well anyway, I was driving my girlfriend to her home. I was at that moment teasing her about not having a license yet, even though she was a year older than me.

We had the top down and we were blaring her favorite song through the speakers which was "Come Together" by The Beatles. The wind was blowing her long hair around her. The street light made her shine even more than usual and I couldn't stop looking at her, she was mesmerizing and I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have her.

She's been in my life since we were young. We have always been close. Here we were now, dating for a year and a half. As I was staring at her, a piece of her hair got stuck inside her mouth as she was singing (she didn't have such a great talent at it but gods did I love it), making her gag. She started freaking out, spitting and pulling on it trying to get it out. I stared at her trying to hold in my laugh. She glared right back at me and we both busted up laughing so hard tears came out of our eyes.

But in the middle of our laughing I saw a pair of headlights, big ones, belonging to a moving truck. The lights were on her side and I was to late to react. I'm sure you can sum up what happened that night.

I wish I could have started this off by saying something cliche like my alarm woke me up, but I always wake up before my alarm. If I hadn't already stayed up all night. No, I wish I had the pleasure of that incessant mechanical beeping to wake me, not my nightmares or that girl, because at least I'd be able to stop the beeping. But we all have our own punishments for everything we've done right?

I lost two things that night, my car and the love of my life. But I only truly deeply care about one and I hope you think enough of me to know which one.

I'm Perseus Jackson and this is my story.

* * *

><p>I pushed myself away from my computer, closing the sea green top. I looked over at the clock, noticing it was 6:00 a.m. This is usually when I start getting ready for school. But I couldn't move. I just leaned back and let my head fall back. I slowly swiveled in my chair, back and forth, back and forth. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw her flower sitting on my windowsill. It was her favorite flower. I had to keep it, it was her last gift to me.<p>

I closed my eyes and sighed. I slowly got out of my chair and walked to my bathroom that's connected to my bedroom. I turned the water on in the shower to where I liked it. Undressing, I slipped in the shower. I closed my eyes and rested my head just beneath the shower head so it could spray on my neck and down my back. I stood in there I'm not sure how long, just enjoying the water as it relaxed me muscle by muscle.

When I got out of the shower I towel dried myself and just left the towel sitting on my head as I walked to my dresser. I grabbed my boxers out. But when I lifted my boxers I noticed a little pictured laying on the bottom of the drawer. It was my first love and me, she was kissing my cheek as she took the photo herself. I couldn't help but let a small smile creep onto my lips as I touched the picture to my forehead. A small tear began to fall but I cut it short.

I don't cry anymore. I softly layed the picture back down and closed the drawer.

Then reluctantly made my way to my closet. It didn't take me long to pick my outfit since we had a school uniform. I buttoned my shirt up to the collarbone and slide my black sweater over it. You can either wear the sweater or the suit jacket. Ties are optional fortunately. Then I put on the standard black pants that they make the guys wear. Girls are to wear skirts, with or without stockings. I sit down on the edge of the bed, already tired from just thinking about today's events that are doomed to happen.

I slide on my black dress shoes.

I sat there spacing to wherever my mind decides to take me. Then I glance at the clock and notice its 7:15 and time to head to school. Grabbing my gray scarf and wrapping it around my neck loosely a few times, I make my way to my bedroom door. Grabbing my black jacket and my back pack, I open the door. I felt something thin and small under my foot. My eyes widened in realization as I thought 'not again' before I heard a very pissed off hiss and felt two tiny teeth enter my shin.

"owowowow, why do you do that Wazi? You sit right outside my door and always seem surprised when I accidentally step on you,". I kneel down and rub my shin as he rubs against my leg. Wazi is Mandarin for sock. Random right? I named him that because he's a short hair, solid black cat. Except for the white fur that dominates his left paw and half his leg.

"I swear you do it on purpose though. Do you not get enough attention huh?" I asked as I scratched behind his ear. He purred contentedly, showing his admiration for the attention and answering my question I think.

I walked out of my room and made my way down my short hallway. Passing my nicely furnished living room, I made it to the kitchen where I had to feed Wazi.

When I realized I forgot to grab some of his cat food from the market I faced palmed. "Sorry Wazi, I'll grab more after school,".

I grabbed some ham from my refrigerator and tossed it on the floor for him. He mewed happily and bounded towards his oh so luxuries breakfast. I could feel my phone buzz in my pocket and I already knew who it was. I picked up the phone and commented before they could even say hi.

"Yes mom, I'm heading towards the door now," I said as I made my way to the front door.

"Well if you didn't want to skip all the time I wouldn't have to call you every morning and make sure," she said in her motherly tone.

It's not my fault I hate school. I make good grades so don't I deserve breaks here and there right?

I chuckled before answering. "Well hey I've been doing good this year! I got myself up a hundred percent of the time so far!". I could feel the smirk creeping on my face. I love getting my mother worked up because she can be just as quick witted as me or quicker.

"Percy it's the first day. You're ridiculous,". I laughed once again. "Well it's the truth is it not?" I replied.

"Don't be a smart ass. JUST GET TO SCHOOL. Bye! Love you hun," and then she hung up.

As I was locking my apartment, (yes mine, my father thought it would make me more responsible) my phone buzzed once more. But this time I wasn't able to guess who it would be. I slumped my back pack over my shoulder and made my way down the buildings corridor. I turned on my touch screen to see it was a message from 'Her'.

All the message said was '_meet me in front of the school.'_ I gripped my phone tighter. She'll never leave me alone. Why should she? I deserve everything I get. So I deserve everything she does to me.

I cast down my eyes, spacing out again. 'She' always gets annoyed at me for it, my friends are not that concerned about it and my mom worries over it. She worries because she knows exactly why I space out. My mom knows I'm thinking about the crash.

As I was dwelling in my perpetual self-pity, I came into contact with a mouth full of blonde curls and a soft small body. The only thing that came to mind was a smell. A simple smell, perfume? Maybe shampoo. But the smell was a mix of strawberries and something else but I couldn't think of it. It was quickly intoxicating. But as quickly as the contact came, it left. The girl went crashing to the floor. The book I assume she was holding went flying and her bag fell open, letting her papers fly.

Then she turned and glared at me, stormy grey eyes meeting sea green. I widened my eyes, afraid of what 'She' might do. But I quickly realized it wasn't 'Her' and recovered. I broke our eye contact and wordlessly knelt down to pick up her papers. When I finished collecting her numerous papers I realized she still hadn't moved from her fallen position. I moved my eyes up to look through my hair at her. Her mouth was hanging open in a very unladylike manor.

I looked at her outfit and realized it was a school uniform. My school uniform in fact. I studied her face next. Her lips were full and pink. She had a button nose that matched with her high cheekbones. Her blonde curls perfectly curled around her head. Her grey eyes were the things that stood out the most. They were wide and shining at the moment. Not like the stormy version I saw when she was glaring at me. She was beautiful, astonishing actually.

But I stopped my examination of her. Already realizing she was to good for me just by laying eyes on her. I stood up and sighed, making eye contact again. I extended my hand to help her up but she was still just staring at me, mouth agape. "You know it's rude to hang your mouth open like that," I said smiling.

She swiftly shut her mouth and glared at me again. I could see a blush creep on her face, making me smirk. She grabbed my hand and I could feel how small they actually were. I pulled her up. I took notice that the top of her head was level with my chin. I was six foot so she was pretty short. She was actually pretty petite. Not scrawny but athletic.

"Well it's also rude to run people over too," she snapped.

"Yeah I'm sorry about that," I said rubbing the back of my head and making a small smile. "I should be looking where I'm walking,".

"I-It's alright, just be more careful,". I held her papers out for her to grab and she took them. "Thank you," she said while putting them back in her bag.

"So you're going to Yancy Academy to huh?" I asked. She nodded and then went rigid. "What time is it?" the mystery blonde asked.

I looked at my phone and said "7:35".

"Oh no I'm gonna be late!" she panicked. I laughed and shook my head. "No you're not, I leave at this time usually and make it. But we shouldn't push it." I said as I again made my way toward the elevator. I felt my foot connect with something and I looked down to see her book sliding across the floor. But before I could see what it was she quickly jogged over to it and dusted it off. She then caught my eye and hid her book in her bag.

We made to the elevator and I pushed the first floor button for us. I lived on the top floor and apparently so did she, so this will be a decent ride. I saw through the corner of my eye she was fidgeting with hem of her skirt and biting her lip. For some reason her cheeks were crimson.

"I'm Percy by the way, 18 years old and a senior at Yancy," I stated holding out my hand. She took it, "Annabeth, 16 and also a senior,". We were quiet for a few more moments.

"So you're new right? I'm sure I haven't seen you around," I asked looking at her. I'm not even sure why I even want to make conversation. I can never be with her. Wait, why am I thinking that anyway?

She nodded. "Yes this is my first day at Yancy. I came from California with my mother and father," she said still facing forward. Is she timid? I don't think that's it from the way she snapped at me earlier. Maybe I'm annoying her? That's possible. I annoy 'Her' plenty of times. 'She' always gets annoyed when I talk to long.

"So how are you 16 and a senior? Skip a grade? Must be pretty smart then," I said raising an eyebrow.

"Y-Yeah I skipped a grade," she slightly stammered. "And I'll be 17 in a week," she quietly added looking the other way.

"Well Happy Birthday, if I don't get the chance to say it in a week," I said smiling at her. She stole a glance at me and faced forward again, with a blush tenting her cheeks.

"Thank you," Is all she said before the elevator doors opened. We began our journey to hell- uh I mean school.


End file.
